Awry
by badriddance
Summary: A what-if request from the kinkmeme. What if things had gone differently very early in the Watchmen story and it had been Ozymandias that died in the fight at Blake's apartment?


It wasn't until his attacker hefted him up that Eddie saw an opening. He felt the grip holding him move to aim him toward the window and his dangling arms brushed the shadowed face. It was like poking a stunned snake. His battle trained reflexes saw the opportunity and struck. His hands latched on and jerked. His attacker's neck snapped.

The body under him collapsed. He landed heavily on it with a moan and they both lay there in the floor of his ruined kitchen. His attacker jerked and twitched for a few minutes and then began to cool. Eddie made sure he could get to his hands and knees and then carefully hefted himself up.

Blood dripped freely from his face. From there, he eased his weight onto his knees and sat up. He took a deep breath and hissed. If his ribs weren't broken, they were sure as hell bruised. He looked at the body beside him. He had a feeling he knew this punchline, but the only way to be sure was to pull off the hat and let light fall on the face. He wasn't sure he wanted to.

Hell with it. One hand was broken too badly to use, but the other one was able to grip the hat and pull. Sure enough, perfect blond hair spilled out. Underneath that was a perfect chiseled face, startled eyes frozen forever at the exact moment he realized his plan had gone awry. Eddie gasped out a laugh that burned all the way from lips to lungs. It was as easy to laugh as to cry, but anyone listening wouldn't have been able to tell which he was doing. Even Eddie wasn't positive.

"I can't even brag I outsmarted you," he gasped, holding his least injured hand to his face. "That was luck and we both know it."

He was tempted to just lay back down and pass out for awhile. The body would keep until morning and who would come calling to see it? But the door had been kicked in. Someone would eventually come out and then what? He could call 911 like a good private citizen, get an ambulance, and be taken care of for a little while. Someone was bound to notice the most famous man in America dead in his apartment eventually, and then what was he supposed to say?

There would be an investigation. Probably several. He could tell them something scandalous enough to be believable. He could make up something, that he met for Veidt a few years ago and that they had been fucking, but things had turned ugly and the Man in Purple wasn't used to being told 'no'. Some wouldn't believe it. Some would. Either way, he wouldn't hear the end of it for entirely too long.

"Sorry, Oz," he rasped. He began the painful,process of crawling over to the cabinet where he kept his household tools. "I know Egyptians were all worried about intact bodies in the afterlife, but you weren't exactly taking my last wishes into account. Being thrown out a window is no Viking funeral." He pulled out a hammer and dropped it twice before he could get a good grip. He dragged himself back and poised over the corpse's face. "Crying shame, pretty boy," he sighed and then he swung.

He didn't count how many times it took to smash Veidt's face into mush. His fingerprints probably weren't even on file. It would take them awhile to identify the body. Time Eddie could spend healing up and getting out of Dodge.

It was another long crawl to the phone, and he didn't even need to fake a panic. He sounded as broken as he looked.

"A man broke into my house!" he told the operator. "He tried to kill me! I need an ambulance!"

"Is the man still there, sir?" The kid sounded about fourteen. Christ.

"Yeah. Yeah, he is. I hit him with a hammer and he's not moving." He almost started to laugh again and the pain was worse this time. "Achk. God, I'm hurt. Get me some help, will ya??"

"Sir, help is on the way. I'm going to stay on the phone with you until they arrive, all right?"

Eddie just grunted and let the phone fall to the floor next to him. He could hear the kid's voice drone in the background as he focused on Veidt's body. It wasn't the first time he had ruined something perfect. At least this way, it wouldn't be the last either, he thought. He grinned a little, pulling the gashes on his mouth open wider and filling his mouth with the taste of blood. He let his head fall back and listened to the sound of sirens coming closer.


End file.
